


Bring on the Heat

by MashiarasDream



Series: Yours!verse [20]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alpha!Balthazar, Alpha!Cain, Alpha!Eileen, Alpha!Ezekiel, Alpha!Kaia, Alpha!Sam, Fluff, M/M, Omega!Adam, Omega!Gabriel, Plot What Plot, SO MUCH FLUFF, a/b/o dynamics, alpha!cas, alpha!michael, established relationships - Freeform, heat - Freeform, marking each other, omega!claire, omega!dean, smut with feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:08:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22663006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MashiarasDream/pseuds/MashiarasDream
Summary: Having the pups in short succession, it’s been a while since Dean’s had a full heat, and it’s definitely the first time since they’ve chosen permanent means of contraception. But if they had any apprehension about that changing things, they wouldn’t have needed to worry.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Gabriel/Balthazar, Kaia Nieves/Claire Novak
Series: Yours!verse [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/252106
Comments: 66
Kudos: 270





	Bring on the Heat

**Author's Note:**

> Have a fluffy smutty little something to get you through the tail-end of winter. :)
> 
> Thank you to infinitywritten for betaing!

This time, Dean notices it before he's even out of bed. 

Mostly, he notices because Cas is still fast asleep, yet wrapped around him so tightly that it's almost hard to breathe. He notices the rest of it a minute later when his brain has had some time to come online. There is the telltale feeling of his skin being a size smaller than he remembers. The way the blanket feels too heavy, too warm, too much, like every nerve-ending is over-sensitive and even the soft fabric is scraping over it.

The next moment, he remembers something else. He looks at the clock on his nightstand. Almost 6 o’clock. 

“Shit.” 

That’s very much morning already. And as much as he loves his daughter, he does not want her to come running into the room in the middle of this. 

“Shit,” he mutters again. 

Even this tiny movement makes Cas grab him faster. Okay, no chance to try to get a phone call done before waking Cas up then. Because Dean's phone might only be two feet away from where he can comfortably reach, but extracting himself from Cas' arms right now would only have Cas' Alpha react before the rest of him is even out of dreamland. Well, the preferable option is waking up all of him then. This is gonna be interesting. 

“Cas? I need you to wake up. And I need you to be rational.” Dean says it very calmly, turning in Cas’ hold as much as he can but making no move to put distance between them. “We have a situation that needs you to react with logic. Upstairs brain power needs to save the day.”

He keeps talking while Cas starts stirring, using as many big words as his brain will come up with. 

Not that it makes any difference. It’s visible the moment Cas’ eyes open. The blue never gets a chance to appear, it’s drowned out by the vast dilation of Cas’ pupils. 

“No, Cas, concentrate!” Dean chastises when Cas starts sniffing the air. It takes effort not to bare his throat, though. He wants to give Cas all the access to his scent glands that he could ever wish for. In fact, his body shudders violently with the effort of holding back. But, “Pups, Cas. We have pups.”

The effect is one of a bucket of cold water. Cas actually shakes himself off like droplets should be flying everywhere. 

“Sitter. We need a sitter.” Cas' voice sounds like it takes effort to grind out the words. 

“That, and to lock the door,” Dean agrees. 

It makes Cas growl at the door, fending off invisible intruders. Dean is pretty damn sure that it’s not their daughter Cas is imagining coming in. In fact, Dean knows a few people that he would be growling at right now, too. 

Cas’ eyes turn back to him. The renewed hunger glinting in them is what clues Dean in that he is in fact actually growling. 

“You find that sexy, Alpha?” Dean grins, though it wavers between a smirk and baring his teeth. “You like me being all territorial over you?”

And oh yeah, that was a mistake - if a glorious one - because Dean finds himself on his back in an instant, Alpha-weight pressing him into the mattress. The next moment, Cas’ hot breath is at his neck and Dean is baring his throat after all. 

If there’s a good way back to a rational brain space, Dean doesn’t know it. He can feel his brain liquifying a little more with each new touch, his heat flaring in the presence of his Alpha's clear intent. Then Cas goes for the mating bite and Dean knows that he’s done for, any will he might have had to fight this gone. Not that he thinks fighting back would lead to anything but a chase and the kind of struggle that always gets them locked together all the faster. 

Well, so be it. The real world will have to wait until after. He'll just hope that their daughter sees it the same way and sleeps until 7 at least. 

The decision made, he banishes all further thoughts about their pups and concentrates on the delicious snack that is his mate. Cas preens under his gaze and Dean sees no reason to hold back any longer. He makes short process of Cas’ fancy button-down pajamas by ripping at them and lets out a satisfied rumble when the annoying buttons fly everywhere, landing with little clangs and thunks all over their bedroom. 

For a split-second, Cas looks offended. Then he growls at Dean to stay still and rips the t-shirt Dean’s wearing straight in half. 

He has such a self-satisfied smirk after that for all that his inner Omega is really happy with this development, Dean starts laughing. “Oh God, I love you, little Alpha.”

Where another Alpha might have gotten angry that his show of strength is being laughed at, Cas doesn’t seem to care. He happily surveys the newly bared skin and leans in to nibble his way along Dean’s chest, making it flush in an instant. It's an easy trick, seeing how with the beginning of his heat, all of Dean’s blood is close to the surface anyway, but that doesn't make it any less enjoyable. 

Cas purrs his approval when Dean lets his head fall onto the pillow, arching his back and letting Cas roam freely. And okay, Dean has zero problems with this. He can totally go with the flow and let Cas do all the work. 

So all he does in response is to wrap his fingers into Cas’ hair, holding on loosely, an extra connection that doesn’t disturb Cas’ intentions, as evidenced by the fact that he pushes his head into Dean’s hand like a cat rubbing up against someone petting them before he resumes right where he left off.

Dean lets his fond smile spread while his eyes flutter closed. It’s easy to let sensations take over conscious thought. Cas knows his body so well, knows every line, every rising and every valley. He knows every nerve ending, too, and he goes for every single one of them. Dean’s not sure whether Cas’ touch spreads heat or cools his too hot skin, but he breathes a little freer with each new touch, has a little more space in his chest for gasps and groans. It's a ramp-up that's steady but still in stages like Dean’s a puzzle and Cas is unlocking all the clues, every wheel turning to increase Dean's pleasure until Dean flies free and Cas locking them together is the only thing that grounds him back to Earth. 

He starts giggling the minute he comes down from his high enough that he can analyze that thought, because holy fuck, where had that ridiculous poetry come from? 

“Hmm?” Cas asks drowsily. He blinks his eyes, looking for all the world like he’s just waking up from a night of peaceful slumber.

Dean purposely tightens his muscles around Cas inside him to remind him that that’s very much not the case. 

It makes Cas shiver, but also makes his eyes fall shut again contentedly as he reaches his arms around Dean in a tight snuggle. 

Okay, so maybe Dean is a lousy poet, but Cas is a ridiculously sappy Alpha and all is well with the world. 

Well, not quite all. Dean sighs. “Think you can roll us over enough that I can reach my phone?”

That gets Cas to reopen his eyes. He looks affronted for a moment, but then consciousness enters his eyes. “Pups. Babysitter.”

It’s not exactly many words, but it’s the right ones, so Dean nods. “That.”

It makes Cas sigh, too, but he obediently rolls them to the side so that Dean can reach the nightstand. 

“Thanks, Cas.” Dean taps his phone indecisively for all of a second before hitting speed dial. It rings twice before someone picks up. 

“This better be important. ” It sounds as tired and annoyed as expected at the early hour.

“Hey, Gabe. I need you and Bal to get Mary from the manor. Right now.”

Immediately, there’s a shift. Gabe sitting up, suddenly awake with worry, Dean guesses. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing as such. But we’re - indisposed. In fact, currently not even in a position to lock the bedroom door. We can remedy that later I guess but we'll still be indisposed for the next few days.”

Gabe groans. “You started this early in the morning? Really? Also, you have household staff, Dean-o.”

“Kinda can’t choose when my heat starts, Gabe. Also, yes, we have staff, and Cas will tell Hannah to run interference, but you know Mary. All that’ll do is make her  _ more _ curious. She’s gonna slip through her fingers and barge in here in no time.”

Gabe grunts his understanding of that particular problem and yawns loudly before he asks. “The twins?”

“Less problematic. Meg can probably be convinced to care for them for a few days and everyone’s happy to keep them amused.”

“Meg?” Gabe’s voice drips with disbelief. “Isn’t Kelly attached to her hip still?”

And oh, Dean had not thought about that. Usually, he’s okay with Kelly near the pups, but usually, he’s also there to supervise. And thinking of Kelly while his brain is addled by heat hormones really does not make him happy.

His silence apparently goes on for too long because Gabe starts chuckling. “Want me to get the twins, too? To have a little sleepover with their Uncles instead?”

“How much would you mind?” Dean asks, calculating the pros and cons quickly. The only con he can come up with is that the twins are not used to having sleepovers. And that Gabe will feed them sugar most likely. But they'll be safe and in the hands of close relatives who even instinct doesn't see as a threat. 

“Not much,” Gabe says good-naturedly. “You’ll just owe me a favor.”

“I’m owing the favor, huh?" Dean snarls. "What about Cas?” 

“Is the one you should be talking to. Tell him to relay the message to the staff. They’ll be happy about the advance warning. No one likes walking in on you two. Well, no one but -”

“Meg and her will have undivided time to keep each other company,” Dean growls.

It makes Gabe howl with laughter. At least he’s apparently fully awake now. “We’ll be there in 15 minutes. No worries, Dean-o.”

Dean barely gets out a grumbled “thanks” before Gabe hangs up on him. Well then, one job done. 

Dean holds his phone out to Cas who has followed their conversation close enough that he heard both parts of it, Dean is sure. “Your turn, Alpha.”

Cas grimaces, no more fond of calling Hannah with this than Dean is. 

But, “You’ll never get Charlie to get up at this hour. And Meg’s got her phone turned off unless she’s expecting an emergency.”

“I know, I know,” Cas grumbles. 

“Oh come on, I called your brother while we’re still,” Dean gestures where they’re still locked together. “Hannah can’t be any worse than that.”

Cas gives him a look. “Do you want to call her?”

“Ahahaha,  _ no _ .” Because just no.

Cas rolls his eyes but he also does his best to get a little bit of distance from Dean. He even tries to put on his pack-Alpha face. Not that it makes much difference, seeing how he literally can’t separate himself from Dean. 

“Hannah, it’s me, not Dean. Please don’t be alarmed but my brother will come by to fetch Mary and the twins for an extended sleepover. I need you to help him get their favorite toys and an overnight bag together, and also to make sure that Mary does not barge into the master bedroom this morning.”

There is a noticeable pause before the answer, probably Hannah trying to figure out how much she wants to ask. 

Dean doesn’t actually understand what she’s saying but Cas blushes a little when he answers. “Umm. Some food and water left in front of the door would be appreciated, but otherwise no, nothing else is needed. We’re good.” He listens for another moment, then nods. “Thank you, Hannah. I appreciate it a lot.” He hangs up and hands Dean his phone back.

“What was she offering to bring?” Dean asks curiously while he puts the phone back on the stand. 

“Other supplies,” Cas evades. 

Dean raises his eyebrows at him. 

“Medical supplies,” Cas admits. “In case our instincts got a little - heated. No pun intended.”

Dean rolls his eyes at the bad joke, but yeah, with Dean’s first heat, all those years ago, there had been a few abrasions and minor wounds that needed attention. Now though? “Huh. You feeling like a chase and a fight, Cas?” Because Dean's definitely content to mess up their sheets without ever changing venue or getting overly rough. 

“Pretty sure I already caught you," Cas wiggles his hips to illustrate his point but also gives Dean a soft kiss on the shoulder. "But to tell you the truth, I’m glad that I didn’t have to actually catch you. How about you? Do you feel like I need to earn my place in your bed?”

“It’s  _ our  _ bed,” Dean points out. “And no, I don’t. You have earned that a long time ago.”

“Good,” Cas sighs with a hint of what sounds like relief.

“Does it surprise you?” Dean asks, because that surprises him in turn. 

“I would have been ready to prove myself if needed. Though it is impossible for me to impregnate you this time,” Cas answers. “So maybe that makes a difference.”

“Yeah, no, dude,” Dean chuckles. “I don’t think this has anything to do with that. Heat hormones don’t really grasp the concept of tied tubes, y’know?” 

“Then…?” Cas probes. 

“Well, it’s probably got something to do with being a great mate and a great father and not having to prove yourself,” Dean answers dryly. He doesn’t even have to look at Cas to know he’s preening, so Cas was fishing for exactly this answer. “I wanna say I didn’t mean it that first time ‘round, either, but,” he shrugs, “kinda did.”

“Yes. I’m very well aware of that,” Cas confirms. “I never wanted to shy away from the test, either. You deserve to have all of your expectations met. That includes those of your Omega.” He stops for a few heartbeats before he adds, “But I’m still glad that you’re happy with me now.”

“I was happy with you back then, too. Just didn’t have the same level of creature comfort if that makes any sense.” His hindbrain had taken much longer than his neocortex to relax completely around Cas. Having his guard up had served him too well too often in the past. 

“It’s just that - even my Alpha is not very conventional,” Cas grimaces like he’s embarrassed by it.

Dean narrows his eyes when he gets where this argument is going. “Because you’re -  _ nice _ ? Are you honestly worried because you’re  _ nice _ to me?” he asks flabbergasted. 

“It may be a stereotype that our more evolved parts don’t subscribe to, but sexual aggression is still seen as a hallmark of an Alpha,” Cas points out. 

“Yeah, and we’ve firmly established years ago that we’re both more the enthusiastic-yet-cuddly type.”

“Normally,” Cas says pointedly.

“Norma- I’m still me, man. Just with a few added hormones.”

Cas stares at him unhappily. 

“You think that was because I wanted you to be more sexually aggressive? More violent? That chase?”

“Well, it was kind of violent.”

Dean snorts. “Dude, I had rug burn, that’s all.” 

“And bruises,” Cas points out. 

“And a few bruises,” Dean admits. “So did you, if I may remind you of that.” He shakes his head, sighing as the motion makes them slip apart. Seems that even the early heat scent cannot counter the heavy topic. He turns so that he’s parallel to Cas, connecting them with a hand on Cas’ hip. “Cas, I’m not sure this is a topic for right now. This is supposed to be a good time.”

“Well, then I need to know how to make it good for you,” Cas stubbornly insists. 

Dean sighs and scrubs a hand through his hair before letting himself fall on his back, staring at the ceiling. “Alright. If you insist, I’ll tell you exactly what I’m thinking. But you won’t like hearing it. So consider yourself warned.” He turns his head towards Cas, who now wears a look of apprehension, probably about what he thinks Dean is going to tell him about his perceived lack of Alpha aggression. So Dean’s gonna talk about Alpha aggression, alright. “That chase was not violence, Cas. I’ve been on the receiving end of Alpha violence and that was not it. I kinda don’t really want to bring those memories into our bed, but if it helps you see the difference between you and I, and  _ that _ , I will.”

Dean expects the immediate turn towards the dark that Cas’ scent takes. He doesn’t expect the turn towards nausea, though. 

“In all of this,” Dean gestures vaguely in the air, “ _ overthinking _ , you really never even thought about that, did you? What you could do to me, should you choose to actually force me into submission. You make contingency plans to your contingency plans, yet that thought never even crossed your mind.” 

He shakes his head and holds a hand out to connect them again, but Cas doesn’t take it, clearly still waiting where Dean is going with this. Which judgment he’s going to proclaim.

As if Dean would ever judge his mate for being who he is. 

“ _ I _ made you fight, Cas, and I wanted you to win. Nothing about that chase scared me. There wasn’t a second of doubt where I didn’t want you to catch me. And when you did, I fought with all that I had, because I knew it was safe. Because I knew all you were gonna do is pin me down. Which is exactly what I wanted you to do. Cause my mate’s strong enough to overpower me, but he’s gentle enough to never use it against me. Not even in the heat of the moment. If you’ll excuse the bad pun.”

This time, when he flexes his fingers in invitation, Cas lays his hand into Dean’s. 

For a moment, they both look at their joined hands before Cas looks at Dean again. He whispers. “The thought of forcing you is revolting to me.”

“Yeah, I can smell that.”

Cas raises an eyebrow at him. 

“You smell like you ate bad mussels,” Dean explains. 

Cas nods in understanding. “I wish it wasn’t even possible. Overpowering you. I wish I could somehow make us even.”

Dean chuckles, “I could always tie you up. A helpful tip your brother gave me before we first shared a heat.”

It makes Cas laugh and roll his eyes. “Please don’t bring up my brother while we’re naked.”

“Dude, I just called him while we were - y’know.”

“But that was not about sex. That was less disturbing.”

Dean snorts. “You have your disturbance levels all mixed up if you ask me.”

“Would you want to?”

“Huh?”

“Tie me up,” Cas clarifies, hesitation in his voice. 

Dean blinks. “Kinky. Especially considering that you only just told me that you think you’re not sexually aggressive enough.”

Cas blushes. “Don’t logic me, Dean,” he grumbles. 

Dean chuckles. “Omega in heat logicking you, huh? That’s a new one.” He puts an arm around Cas and draws him closer until their skin meets. “Only logical then that there should be kissing happening right now.”

Cas indulges him, though that’s not a thing Dean is surprised about. Cas would indulge him on that even without the added incentive of heat smell. 

They get lost in the kiss for a while. Dean revels in the comfortable bubble of taste and scent and sound that encloses them. His skin tingles where Cas touches it, but the urge isn’t too immediate yet and he feels lazy in all the best ways. “‘M gonna have you all to myself for a whole three days or so,” he mumbles fondly. The thought makes him happy. 

“It’s been a while since we've managed that,” Cas whispers, the honey in his scent prominent. It’s stronger than the chocolate and spices even. And it’s not that Dean’s doubted it but it’s still good to know that Cas values their time together as highly as Dean does and that it's not about the sex, even though neither of them are going to complain about rolling around the sheets. 

“Yeah, that whole thing with the pups and the pack to run and the family crises to solve is really inconvenient,” Dean agrees, only half-jokingly. He takes a play-bite out of Cas’ chest. 

“Hmm,” Cas smirks and turns them so that he’s towering over Dean. “That whole happy family thing inconveniencing you?”

“Wouldn’t quite say it like that,” Dean purrs and pulls Cas closer, “just want my husband all to myself sometimes.”

“Is that so?” Cas smirks and bites his way along Dean’s throat. 

“Mmmh,” Dean arches his back to give Cas better access. “Want you, Alpha.”

It elicits a shudder and a satisfied growl and an increase of Cas’ weight on him as he settles down on his forearms, letting Dean bear more of his weight while he sucks a row of marks into Dean’s neck and shoulder. 

Dean whines and keens, heat ramping up as the scent of his mate floods his senses. He tries rutting against Cas but his mate has him boxed in pretty good. “Please, Cas. Please.” He runs his hands up and down Cas’ arms where he can reach. 

He can smell Cas’ scent intensifying, pride and satisfaction that his mate wants him enough to openly beg mixing in with the spices that accompany Cas’ spiking arousal. 

“Want you inside me, Cas. Want to feel you everywhere,” Dean babbles on because he likes the scent mix as well as the moans his words elicit. 

There’s barely a hitch when Cas lines them up and pushes in, Dean’s body oh so ready to grant access to his mate. 

“Love you, love you so much,” Cas murmurs. “My mate. All mine.”

“All yours,” Dean agrees. “Always all yours.” He hitches his knees up, changing their angle to allow Cas to sink another bit deeper inside him. “God, Cas, feel so good. So full. Feels so right.”

Cas rumbles deep inside his chest, a sound that’s all Alpha and still so very soft and full of love. It mirrors the pace he sets, never having to set out slow, but ramping things up steadily, allowing Dean’s body to catch up with it, allowing the friction and pressure between them to help by rubbing Dean’s dick in all the right ways - never mind that with the heat he definitely wouldn’t need it - and never letting up even when his knot starts to swell until he feels Dean’s insides spasm around him. Only then does he push himself over the edge with a final few hard shoves. 

Cas is breathing hard but though he rests his weight on Dean again, he keeps grinding in small circles, the absolute range of movement his knot allows. It makes both of them pant and grunt, sensitivity high after the orgasm but sparks of pleasure flaring up from the movement that totally make it worth it. 

For once, it’s Cas who gets into the range of over-sensitivity first, or maybe he’s exhausted his energy, in any case, he sighs and rolls both of them over to their sides, his forehead coming to rest against Dean’s, their legs tangled tightly to keep from tugging too hard on Cas’ knot. 

For a while, they rest together, heart-rates slowing down, scents calming after the orgasm spike. Finally, Dean brings a hand up to cup Cas’ face and pulls him closer to exchange lazy sated kisses for a while. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispers at Cas. “You’re perfect for me and I could never wish for anyone better.”

Cas whines a little because for all that he lectures Dean about the same thing he’s horrible at accepting praise. But right now Cas’ limbs are soft and loose, the tension bled out of his shoulders, all of him relaxed in his embrace with Dean, so he doesn’t protest. Dean uses it to pepper his mate with kisses and to keep telling him all the small things that sometimes get lost in the hectic days. 

“Still look at you sometimes and can’t believe my luck. ‘S amazing that we found each other. That I fell in love with you and you loved me back. That we made a family. ‘S still overwhelming sometimes.”

“Dean...”

He shuts Cas up with another kiss. “I know. I know all of that. I know that it’s not all roses. That we bicker. That sometimes life stresses both of us the fuck out. That your family has a lot of, uhh, issues. That sometimes we have to compromise because there’s no perfect solution. And none of that matters. Because we do it together. Y’know? We always work through it together, no matter what life throws at us. It only makes me love you more, Cas.”

There’s a blush spreading out from Cas’ face over his chest, but this time he doesn’t try to deflect. This time he catches Dean’s gaze and holds it. “It’s the only way I’d ever want to go through life. With you at my side. I’m so glad that I get to have that.”

It’s Dean’s turn to blush though he also holds Cas’ eyes. They are sparkly and extra-blue in the morning light that filters through their curtains and there is so much love in them that it’s like a physical touch. 

He remembers his thoughts from very, very in the beginning, from before he’d really gotten to know Cas. Back then, he’d thought that he could spend a lot of time looking at this Alpha’s face if he was allowed. He’s been allowed for many years now, but his thoughts about it haven’t changed. He smiles and carefully catalogs the tiny wrinkles around Cas’ eyes as he smiles back. They aren’t deep yet, mere hints of laughter lines to come. Dean lets a thumb glide over them. Other people might be disturbed by the signs of aging, might try to smoothen out the lines with creams and balms or whatever. He loves them. Because there’s no steep angry line on Cas’ forehead, no frown etched permanently into his features. There are  _ laughter lines _ . From smiling and laughing and smirking and grinning and teasing and playing and loving and all around being happy. Because they’re happy. And it might be self-indulgent, but Dean likes to believe he has a big part in that. 

It’s the beeping of his phone that finally throws them out of their trance. It comes with a frightening thought that makes him sit up with a start. “Shit, sorry,” he apologizes because they slip apart, but if they hadn’t, then the movement would most certainly have been painful for both of them. 

“What’s wrong?” Cas sits up, immediate worry in his eyes. 

Dean can’t help it, he starts laughing. “I just remembered that we never got around to locking that door.”

“Oh,” Cas startles before he starts laughing, too. “I better remedy that.”

Cas goes to lock the door, though not before checking outside for the sandwiches and drinks that Hannah helpfully left for them. Meanwhile, Dean checks his phone. A few messages with attachments came through.

_ Balthazar @Dean: My mate says to tell you that the toddler-barging-into-the-room-crisis has been averted by grace of distance.  _

The first picture shows Gabe with an apron, Mary standing on a stool to his left, Jack to his right. Jack is carefully holding a bowl steady while Mary is pouring what looks like sugar into it. 

“They’re baking cookies,” Dean informs Cas. “Mary and Jack are both helping and they take it seriously by the looks of it.”

He shows the picture of their concentrated faces to Cas, who smiles. “Ask Gabe to make something green at some point in the three days she’s there.”

Dean chuckles. “You know that the green thing will be fondant with food coloring, not leafy greens, right?” 

He clicks to the next picture and frowns. His scent seems to change, too, because Cas doesn’t waste time turning the phone so that he can see the picture.

“Huh,” is all he says, though. 

The picture is obviously taken in Gabe’s and Bal’s living room. But it’s not Gabe and Bal playing with the twins. It’s Adam and Ezekiel. 

“That’s - unexpected.” Dean tries to keep his voice neutral.

“Well, they’re obviously still in the apartment,” Cas says but he shifts uncomfortably where he sits. 

Dean clicks to the next file and it’s a short video. They can hear Mary and Jack with Gabe in the background, but the focus is still on the twins. They have cars and a tractor and a train, though it doesn’t seem like they’re racing them the way Mary would. They seem to be building blocks around them.

“Are they building a home for the cars?” Dean asks. 

“Maybe?” Cas tilts his head and squints at the screen, trying to find the optimal distance from the phone to see.

“Hate to say it, Cas, but you really need to go get your eyes checked out. You need reading glasses.”

“Hrmph,” Cas grumbles like he always does when Dean brings this up. 

“Huh,” Dean remarks because the camera is zooming away from the twins and to the faces of the grown-ups. They are both wearing a slight blush, and while outwardly they concentrate on the children, they keep stealing glances and smiles. 

“Okay, those two are definitely playing house,” Dean says with a slight grimace because he’s pretty sure that doesn’t spell good things for anyone, even if Zeke’s gaze every so often slides down to Adam’s collar, especially when Adam subconsciously fumbles with it. 

The video ends abruptly when Gabe’s voice can be heard calling for his mate.

“So, what now?” Dean asks Cas. “Cause I don’t think we’re in any state to rush there and get the pups back.”

“Balthazar and Gabriel usually know to be careful,” Cas grumbles. 

“Yup,” Dean confirms. “Though to be fair, they’re not exactly unsafe right now, either. We haven’t forbidden either Adam or Ezekiel to be around the children and they are not alone with them.”

“Or with each other,” Cas adds drily.

“Yeah, kinda didn’t look like they were actively planning a kidnapping. They’re way too deeply invested in making doe-eyes at each other to work on nefarious plans.” 

Dean lets the short video play again. His own eyes are also drawn to the collar again and again, even though superficially he’s gotten used to it. Adam fumbles with it often. Like he needs the physical reminder to not get carried away in this new life. 

“Still, better safe than sorry.”

“Huh?” For a heartbeat, Dean is confused. Then he understands that Cas means the pups. Because Cas can’t read thoughts. “Oh. I’ll write Bal to not let them be alone with the pups. That good enough?” 

“Regular updates?” 

“Yeah, I think they’re doing that anyway.” 

Still, he adds it to the message he sends Bal. It takes only a few seconds for an answer to come through. 

_ Balthazar @Dean: Just thought Cas should know. About, well, you saw what about.  _

Dean reads the message aloud to Cas. 

“But we already knew that.”

Dean weighs his head slowly. “Sort of? But we didn’t know that they’re actually, well, blushing and flirting and I think I saw hands touching there.”

“No, we didn’t know that I guess.” Cas sighs. “I should put a stop to it, shouldn’t I?”

“Probably,” Dean shrugs. “Not that I think you actually can. I mean, without taking drastic measures.”

That makes Cas grimace harder. “Ellen is going to endorse those.”

“Ellen always endorses the safest course,” Dean agrees without hesitation.

Cas thinks about the statement for a second. “Ellen, yes. So what you want to say is that we don’t?”

Dean gives him a half-grin. “We didn’t even lock the door, man.”

That makes Cas snort with laughter. “Not the same gravity of situation, Dean.”

“But hella embarrassing if caught.” He turns serious again. “Do we know anything new? About Michael, I mean?”

“No,” Cas shakes his head. “Trial date is still set for late January.”

Dean makes a face. “So you’re spending my birthday in California in a courtroom?” 

Cas sighs. “There is a certain likelihood. I’m sorry.”

“At least Sam and Eileen are scheduled to come back after. Something to look forward to is better than nothing to look forward to.” It’s not quite glass half full, but it’s the best Dean can do on this.

“I’m sorry,” Cas repeats, sounding contrite. 

“Not your fault,” Dean shakes his head. 

“But my family’s, so by extension it’s mine.”

“By that logic, it’s my fault, too. I was the one insisting on trying to contact Adam in the first place,” Dean reminds Cas. 

“Which wouldn’t even have been necessary if… umpf.”

Dean unceremoniously shuts Cas up with a kiss. “No more arguing or I’ll immediately start the next round.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat?” Cas raises his eyebrows.

“Yes,” Dean nods. “Cause I know you like to talk things out and we were in the middle of something. You’ll feel terribly unsatisfied by this  _ talkus interruptus _ .”

Cas snorts, rolling his eyes at Dean, but also putting his hands on Dean’s skin, letting them run idly over his sides. He wastes no time continuing the previous topic, though. “I wish the trial was already over. Things would be easier then. With Adam and Ezekiel, I mean. We’d know where we stand.”

Dean smirks because, oh yeah, he knows his mate well. Not even heat is distraction enough when a topic is stuck on his mind. “You think Adam’s gonna ask you to file for divorce for him? If Michael gets convicted, I mean.”

Cas leans his head against Dean’s shoulder. “Is it horrible to say that I hope so?” 

“No. Just hoping that that would actually go the way we want it to go,” Dean answers and pulls Cas into an embrace. 

“It’s a high profile case,” Cas reminds him.

“Meaning that it’d set an example and depending on the political climate and the judge we got, it could go either way.”

Cas sits back up to look at Dean. “You’ve thought about this.”

“And discussed it with Sam. Of course I did,” Dean confirms. “Even if this wasn’t about Adam, I’ve got a class in gender politics, remember?” 

“An early master’s course. I do remember,” Cas says, pride in his voice.

“Oh shut up,” Dean blushes. 

“Hmm, I don’t think so. You started it after all,” Cas grins, completely unapologetic. “So now I get to be proud of my mate without getting shushed for it.”

“I’m still tempted to give your mouth better things to do,” Dean threatens again.

“Is that so?” Cas raises an eyebrow in challenge, demeanor much different than before.

It doesn't take much to kindle Dean's desire - the look Cas is shooting him is definitely enough for that - but he crosses his arms over his chest and gives Cas an appraising look right back, holding himself back by sheer force of will to use the opportunity to tease some more. "There are just  _ so many  _ options," he ponders. 

It makes Cas smirk. "How about we mix things up a little then?” He scoots down until he can find a space between Dean's legs, running his hands up the inside of Dean’s thighs until Dean spreads his legs wide. 

But when Dean wants to move, to tilt his hip up to make things easier for Cas, Cas holds him in place. Instead of going for Dean’s ass as he’d expected, Cas leans forward, his mouth enveloping Dean’s dick in a sudden burst of wet heat. 

Dean shouts, the sensation on top of the heat too much for a moment, but when Cas pops off to look at him questioningly, Dean fervently shakes his head. “No, no. Go on. Please go on,” he urges. 

Cas grins and bobs back down, using his tongue this time to slide along the underside of Dean’s dick before blowing cool air onto the wetness. Dean’s toes curl into the mattress as he gasps, his hands clutching the sheets. 

“Good. Definitely good,” he breathes out before Cas can even ask. 

Cas goes to town for real then, licking and sucking and at some point pushing his fingers inside Dean for added punch. He makes Dean squirm and gasp and arch his back, the heat pooling inside him, drawn from his limbs down into his gut, following the heat of Cas’ mouth and the cleverness of his tongue. 

Dean gasps with the suddenness with which his muscles contract. He feels himself spill into Cas’ mouth, his wetness intensifying around Cas’ fingers, the slickness increasing. Cas spreads his fingers wide, gives Dean’s internal walls resistance to work with. It triggers another shock wave of muscle spasms, though it’s not followed by any cooling off.

“Cas. Cas,” Dean tries to get his attention before he decides that words are too complicated and bodily drags his mate up by his arms until they are face-to-face again. He wraps his legs around Cas’ hips urgently, glad when Cas understands and aligns them so that he can push inside. 

Cas groans in relief when he sinks in, his muscles going lax for a few breaths before he picks himself up and sets a rhythm of fast shallow strokes that pushes both of them relentlessly higher and higher. Dean holds onto Cas’ shoulders, matching him stride for stride, his desire still flaring, the orgasms he’s had not deep enough, not connected enough, even though Cas had been pretty damn intimately close. Now, Dean gets the remnants of his coordination together to slap a hand around the back of Cas’ head, to draw him even closer and kiss him. Cas’ mouth is open, his breathing shallow and fast like the rhythm of his hips. He still tastes faintly of Dean, so Dean licks deeper, wants to find Cas, just Cas, and then Cas cries out and instead of throwing his head back and drawing away, Cas groans into Dean’s mouth, lets him feel the impact his orgasm has on his whole body, and it makes Dean tumble over the edge again right along with him.

They lie panting for a while, mouths open. They try to exchange a few more sloppy kisses, but it suddenly seems like a lot of work to keep up the coordination and body strength. So in the end, after they’ve rolled onto their sides, Dean hides his face in the crook of Cas’ neck, pressing a few open-mouthed kisses to the mating bite, but finally letting his eyes slip closed while inhaling his mate’s scent. It’s sweaty and sated and comforting like a weighted blanket. 

When he opens his eyes again, it’s because his stomach growls loudly enough to wake him. 

“Huh.” He takes stock of his limbs and then of Cas’ limbs. They’re still tangled up. Cas is beginning to stir, too, eyes blinking at Dean sleepily. So they both fell asleep. “Huh.”

The light has changed, too. The early winter sun is never quite warm, but the afternoons every so often still turn peach, and that’s how the light paints their room right now.

Dean’s stomach grumbles again. Okay, food seems to be a priority for his body. But sleepy adorable mate is a priority for his heart, so instead of disentangling himself, he gives Cas a kiss on the nose. Cas goes cross-eyed as he follows the movement, much to Dean’s amusement. 

His chuckling seems to wake Cas up a little more, in any case, he stretches only to make a face. “Ugh.”

“Huh?”

“Sticky.”

Dean tries moving, too, and wrinkles his nose. Sticky with a side-note of crusty. “Yeah, okay,” he admits. “Probably a quick shower before anything else.”

Cas’ nostrils flare wide at the mention of shower, making Dean chuckle again. 

“What have we said about shower sex, Cas? Slippery tiles are dangerous.”

“But bathroom,” Cas whines and holds Dean faster. “Whole other room.”

“I see,” Dean noses at Cas’ pulse point. He has no trouble picking out Cas’ base-scent from the myriad of other scents that haven’t been washed off. It’s electric and crackling, the power in it flaring bright instead of being carefully hidden like usual. It’s not a lightning storm like when Cas is angry but it’s sharp enough that it tickles his nose and makes his inner Omega whine. Still, for a moment, he’s not sure whether it arouses him or makes him want to sneeze. In either case, he’s suddenly pretty damn sure that getting Cas to let go of him is not happening. “No knotting in the shower,” he decides. “But you can come with me.” 

He takes Cas’ hand to drag him up. It gives Cas a dopey happy look that Dean doesn’t even know what to do with. 

“C’mon Mister I-Never-Have-A-Rut, up you go.”

That stops Cas cold. Judging by his face, it’s the ice bucket challenge only without any of the actual ice cubes. Now Dean would enjoy some cold water on his overheated skin, but it doesn’t look like Cas does the same.

Dean comes the half-step back to the bed that he had already managed to walk. “Hadn’t noticed, huh?” He smiles at Cas in a way that he hopes is both soothing and commiserating. 

“I - before we fell asleep?” Cas asks, frown on his forehead indicating that he’s combing through every single one of their interactions.

“Not that I could smell it,” Dean answers. “Might have taken your body a while to respond to my heat.”

“But last time…”

“Well, last time barely existed,” Dean points out. “And the time before that, well, you  _ did  _ smell like multiplied you.” He sniffs the air again and feels his nose twitch in response to the electric smell of the air, that not even the downpour of cold could wash out. “Not quite as primordial as right now, though. It smells a little like when you’re really pissed off. Only completely different.”

Which makes Dean’s response to it also completely different. Because lightning-storm-pissed-off-Cas is a Cas that Dean is, well, not necessarily avoiding, but definitely a Cas that Dean is cautious about how to approach. He doesn’t think Cas would hurt him. Not really. But he could, and Dean’s instincts make him aware of it with screeching alarms going off in his head when Cas smells dangerous. 

This crackling-with-electric-energy-and-throwing-sparks-Cas, though? Dean’s inner Omega wants to flop over and present for him. Because where his instincts tell him to placate pissed-off Cas, instinct now tells him that those sparks might scorch someone else, but for him, they mirror the heat in his body. He’s running so hot already, this energy will not burn him. 

So he moves back into Cas’ personal space. Cas’ hand comes up to his hip instantly, holding him tight. The way Cas frowns at his own hand, Dean thinks it was mostly an involuntary reaction, though. 

“Don’t,” Dean stops him with a hand over Cas’ hand when Cas makes a concentrated face like he wants to force his body into letting go of Dean. 

“I didn’t -,” Cas breaks off, still looking at his hand like it’s developed a will of its own.

Dean chuckles and presses closer until Cas has no choice but to look at him instead of at his hand. “Yeah, I kinda figured.” He presses a kiss to Cas’ cheek. “How often have I told you, huh? I’m here. There’s no need to pretend this isn’t happening and deal with it on your own.”

But all that happens is that Cas’ scent gets even more stressed out. He takes a deep breath and then rips himself backwards. He builds enough momentum that he actually stumbles over his own feet. Dean’s got the impulse to catch him, but he refrains at the last second, thinking that following Cas right now would not be helping. His body doesn’t like it at all, but then, Dean doesn’t like doing stuff his mate doesn’t want even less. He watches with a frown as Cas rights himself. He’s visibly shaking. 

“That enough proof to yourself yet?” Dean asks rather harshly. Watching someone hurt Cas is not something he tolerates well. Doesn’t matter if that someone  _ is _ Cas.

“I should…”

“You should come shower with me because we’re both sticky and sweaty and I’m still hungry and want to get to the food,” Dean interrupts him before Cas can get any ideas. “You wanna best care for me, that’s how.”

It hits Cas like a wall of bricks. Or in any case, he tumbles like he got hit by a physical blow.

For a heartbeat, Dean feels guilty. But then he turns and fights his own instincts to move away from his mate. “Coming?” he asks him over his shoulder. 

He counts three steps before Cas hurries after him. 

They’re quiet in the bathroom. Dean fumbles with the controls until the water has a temperature he can bear that he thinks will also be okay for Cas. Cas wordlessly offers the shower gel but Dean pushes it firmly back into Cas’ hands. Cas gets the hint and rubs the gel foamy between his hands before starting to rub it into Dean’s skin. 

It should be more relaxing than it is. But Cas’ hands are still shaking. 

“You’re not gonna hurt me and I don’t want to get away from you.” Both of these statements seem completely self-evident to Dean. 

“It’s not even -,” Cas breaks off and then starts anew. “I’m not used to -” He stops that sentence, too. 

But it’s enough to clue Dean in. “Ah. Not used to having your hindbrain be faster than your conscious decisions?”

“Yes,” Cas nods, obviously relieved that Dean got it without him having to explain.

“Y’know, I ain’t gonna complain about your normal self being rather cerebral-oriented but there is such a thing as gut instinct,” Dean offers carefully, “that can actually be quite useful.”

“Not if it’s not thought through,” Cas shakes his head, breathing shallow. “I need to think everything through.”

And okay, this starts to sound much more worrisome than Dean’s anticipated. He watches his trembling mate for another moment before he asks, “Cas, can I hug you?” 

Cas looks startled by the request, but after a heartbeat, he nods. Dean isn’t sure it’s because he really wants to or because the rut doesn’t give him a choice but he still takes the permission as permission and puts his arms around Cas, hugging him tight. 

“Tell me if this feels too much. If it feels stifling,” Dean murmurs into Cas’ ear. “‘S supposed to feel grounding. But if it feels wrong, tell me. Because I think you’re having an anxiety attack, little Alpha, and you’re not having those often enough that I’d know exactly what you need.”

He feels Cas stiffen even more against him, like that wasn’t an option that had crossed Cas’ mind. 

“For the moment, maybe just breathing is a good idea?” Dean proposes. He tries to keep his own breathing to a calmer rhythm than Cas’, knows that Cas can feel it with how close they are. Because Dean can definitely feel how his own breathing wants to mirror Cas’, wants to get infected by the short shallow intakes and the rapid heartbeat, wants to give in to the fight or flight instinct that comes with it. But Dean’s got experience handling sudden fright. He knows how to force his breathing into even measures that will at least project calmth, whether he feels it or not. 

It takes a while before Cas starts mirroring him. Before his breathing becomes deeper and more even. Before it slowly takes on the rhythm Dean is setting. And even when it’s reached that, even when they’re breathing in sync, Dean doesn’t let go. It’s only when goosebumps start to crop up on Cas’s skin that Dean loosens his grip. 

He turns to shut off the water. Maybe not as much soap as he’d intended to use, but it was enough water at least to wash away most of the stickiness. And between the heat and the rut, it’s not like they won’t get covered in bodily fluids again. 

He maneuvers Cas out of the shower and towels both of them dry. Cas’ response is somewhat weirdly in between where it seems like he wants to cling but also like he wants to not be here. Like, not even not be with Dean, just maybe not have to move anymore or be swallowed by a hole in the ground. 

Or maybe Dean is projecting from whenever anxiety gets him in its clutches, but in any case, he sits the newly dry Cas down on the bed and grabs water and sandwiches for both of them. 

"Feels like you're gonna die any minute," Dean volunteers after he's inhaled half of his sandwich, stomach finally grumbling with work instead of emptiness. "Like you can't possibly keep breathing. That's  _ not _ a gut instinct to trust. Cause it's not what happens. It’s just a matter of taking one breath after the other until it stops feeling like that."

"I'm a doctor, Dean," Cas says weakly. 

"So you know the textbook version of what an anxiety attack looks like," Dean allows. "Kinda less frightening than the actual thing."

“I know them like this, too,” Cas admits quietly. “Or I did, anyway. I had forgotten how it feels.”

“Wanna tell me about it?” Dean asks carefully because he knows that there’s been times when Cas has been anxious, but usually it makes him stoic and terse. It isn’t whatever this is. 

Cas thinks about it, not even taking another bite of his sandwich until Dean nudges him to remind him. He chews meditatively before saying, "I still feel weird. Has my scent changed?"

Dean leans in to sniff at Cas' neck. "Anxiety washed it out a little. But that electric smell is still there. Don’t think you can  _ think _ yourself out of a rut. Last I heard that’s not how it works."

“I hated it. When I presented. I mean I understand that it’s normal for an Alpha to have Alpha hormones. I just - there was so little that I could control in my life and myself had always been the last fallback. And when I presented - suddenly everything was out of control.”

Dean nods because at least to a degree he gets it. “So when you touch me without actively deciding that’s what you want to do, that reminds you?”

“It scares me more how much fight it takes to let go.” Cas looks down with distress at where his hand has already found Dean’s leg again, the connection apparently less voluntary than normal.

“Even when I can tell you with absolute certainty that I don’t want you to let go?” Dean asks. “Because I’m absolutely certain, you know.”

Cas smiles a weak smile. “I fear that that does not in fact change anything.”

“Cause it’s more about you than about me?”

Cas nods. 

“‘Kay,” Dean accepts that. “So, what now?” 

His sandwich is gone, that type of hunger stilled for now, but all that’ll mean is that the other type of hunger will come right back, even if Cas’ anxiety has been a temporary ice bucket on that, too. 

“You still up for - this?” Dean gestures vaguely between them and grimaces at the instantaneous twinge in his stomach the words produce. “Ugh.” He resists the urge to grab Cas’ hand, to physically keep him here, by shifting so that he basically sits on his hands. “I think if your answer is no, we gotta decide next steps fast.” 

Cause there’s no way in hell that Dean’s gonna manage more than a few minutes in a room with Cas without breaking down if Cas is rejecting him. 

“Cas?” Dean asks again when Cas keeps staring at his hand on Dean’s legs and doesn’t answer. “Really, I don’t wanna pressure you, but…” 

He can feel his own anxiety flaring up, filling his stomach with a dread that insidiously starts to combine forces with the heat. 

He concentrates on the small touch to his leg, lets it ground him as much as possible. Cas loves him. Even if Cas can’t do this, it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t love him. 

“Cas, please?” Dean asks, knowing that his voice comes out small and scared. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Cas whispers. 

“You’re not. You’re not,” Dean replies, fast. “You never would.” Rut or no rut, it makes no difference for this, Dean is absolutely sure. 

“I-,” but Cas doesn’t go on. Instead, he takes a deep breath and then he’s in Dean’s space and then they are blessedly, blessedly kissing. 

Everything in Dean sags in relief. So much so that he actually sags on the bed, falling over and taking Cas down with him.

And if Dean worries about that, it isn’t necessary. Because Cas catches them safely like he always does. 

“I love you,” Dean tells him between kisses, holding on as tight as he can. “Dammit, Cas, I love you so goddamn much.”

It gets answered with more kisses and then little nibs to his lower lip which prompt Dean to scratch his fingernails down Cas’ back and they work from there. It’s not the most elegant or coordinated they’ve ever been but they make up for what they lack in grace in urgency. 

Dean can’t help it, he huddles in extra-tight after. “Shit, I really thought for a minute there that you were gonna leave. That was scary as fuck.” He moves back with a start. “You’re not still leaving, are you?”

“No,” Cas shakes his head. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“Oh, thank God,” Dean sighs and sinks back down. “I mean, you can. You know you can. It’s just…”

“I know,” Cas whispers. “I know. I feel the same.”

And yeah, maybe this is actually the first time that Cas does indeed feel the same as Dean. It makes Dean chuckle. “Heh.”

“What?” Cas asks, though it sounds less irritated than Dean would have expected. 

“First time you don’t get an edge over me, man,” Dean grins. “First time your biology brings you down to be right on par with me.”

“Huh.” And that’s obviously not a way Cas has looked at this yet, judging by his reaction. 

“Gotta admit that I kinda like that,” Dean says. He makes sure to keep his tone to soft teasing, though. Cause he definitely only likes it if Cas doesn’t get hurt by it. 

But Cas snuggles in tight. “Guess you gotta teach me how to do this then.”

“Enthusiastic cuddling is a pretty good start.”

“Oxytocin,” Cas mumbles. “Bonding hormone. Counteracts anxiety.”

Dean snorts. “Sure, let’s go with that. Also with: feels real good.”

“Same thing,” Cas answers. 

Dean rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Science-nerd.”

" _ Your _ science nerd?"

"Course. Wouldn't want any other." Dean gives Cas a peck on the nose. "So, does that mean you are feeling a little better?"

"A little." Cas noses into Dean's skin. 

Dean chuckles. "I'm not gonna make you go to your own side of the bed if you say yes, you know that, right? Or if you say no, for that matter."

“Hmpf.”

And okay, Dean can make do with the non-verbal answer for now, seeing how his body is sated and his mind assuaged by the fact that his mate has all his limbs wrapped around him. 

He sniffs surreptitiously at the air. Cas’ scent has evened out into something like - electrically charged honey-chocolate? It’s a weird mix, Cas’ usual roots and earth almost completely gone under the static electricity. But even with that, the familiar honey and chocolate tones mellow the scent down into content. 

“Am I different?” Dean asks because the thought pops into his head. 

“Huh?”

“During heat. I’m still me, I know that, but am I still different than normal?”

“Other than being hornier?” Cas grins.

“That’s physical,” Dean argues. Though now that he thinks about it, “Hmm, though I guess neither my mind nor my body deal well with you not being there during heat. Pretty sure I don’t usually resort to begging to make you not go to a school board meeting.”

Cas smirks. “Though you might resort to begging if that gets you out of having to share a chaperoning shift with the headmaster at an event.” 

“One time. That was one time, Cas,” Dean grumbles. “And it’s not my fault that he’s creepy.”

Cas shakes his head fondly. “He’s impartial and does a good job.”

Dean’s never argued with it, either. It’s just that, “The only thing that makes me believe he’s even halfway human is his love for Chicago deep dish pizza.”

Cas chuckles. “Makes sense. If there was anything you were going to bond over, it was that.”

Dean grins back. “I wouldn’t say  _ bond  _ is exactly the right term, but hey, I’m gonna eat pizza if someone offers me pizza. But the question still stands.”

“Are you different?” Cas asks. 

“Yup, that question.”

“Not in any way that would make you unrecognizable,” Cas replies. “It’s not like instinct takes over and all of you is gone. You’re always the same person at your core.”

Dean looks at Cas pointedly. 

“Yeah, okay, point taken,” Cas allows before he quietly grumbles. “I still don’t have to like it.”

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Dean says and wriggles his butt so that the friction sends a zing of sparks through both of them. He grins when it makes Cas whine. “Just saying.”

Despite the means which Dean chose to deliver that message, Cas seems to actually think it over. With his upstairs brain. Finally, he lets out another deep breath and Dean can feel how he purposely relaxes his muscles. “Promise me you’ll tell me if I do something you hate or that hurts you?”

“I will,” Dean promises. “Always do.”

It’s true, too. He’s come around to the concept of speaking his mind. He is still aware of what kind of impression they’ll make and obviously he is mindful of Cas’ feelings but the reluctance to tell Cas when something doesn’t quite work for him is gone. 

"You get to feel safe, too, though. It's not just me." Dean smiles softly and leans in to nibble at Cas'skin. "You have a rut, I'll take care of you. Real good care. Like you do with my heat."

It makes satisfaction rumble in Cas' chest before the anxiety sets back in, diluting the electric honey with something muddy and watery.

“There’s no need for this,” Dean chastises and pokes Cas in the ribs. “You’re doing great.”

Cas grumbles something inaudible while pressing his nose into Dean’s skin. Then he takes a deep breath. It comes out on a sigh. “Please never tell him that I said this, but sometimes I wish I had a Gabriel.”

“Hmm?” Dean frowns. “Pretty sure you have one.”

“Well, yes,” Cas nods, “as a brother I do. But I meant - the way you have him. Or had him in the beginning. As a - mentor?”

Dean chuckles. “That actually hurt you to say, didn’t it?” But then he becomes serious because this is a pretty big admission from Cas. “You mean an Alpha to ask about shit like ruts?”

“Yes,” Cas agrees. “I mean, I know all about them in a medical sense, but…”

“It’s not the same?”

“It’s not the same.”

“Balthazar?” Dean asks, mainly because he’s the first Alpha that comes to mind since they’ve just talked about Gabe.

“No!” Cas answers with emphasis. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that Balthazar and I have learned to work together. And despite whatever misgivings I had in the beginning, I can see why he and my brother work. But he and I are very different. I would neither want him as a confidante nor do I think it would work out.”

Dean nods because he can see the truth in what Cas is saying. They are slipping apart anyway, so Dean turns to find a more comfortable position, though he doesn’t actually let go of Cas. 

The hippie Alpha and his future mate are obviously out of the question, being too young and too dependent on Cas as the head of their household to be good choices to confide in. Not that Dean wants to even accidentally find out what those two do in bed, so that’s probably all for the better. Which leaves, “What about Cain?”

The proposition is met with silence. Could be that Cas is startled into silence because he has never thought about it before, but somehow Dean doubts it. 

“You talk to him about pack stuff. You ever talk to him about shit like heats and ruts as well?” 

Cas clears his throat. “Well. Not exactly, no.”

“How can you  _ not exactly _ talk about ruts? ‘S like an either or thing.”

Cas sighs. “I didn’t talk to him about either the general topic of heats and ruts, or about us as a couple. I  _ did  _ ask him about whether he was prone to ruts.”

“Because you wanted to know whether there’s an increased risk for violence,” Dean understands with a start. 

Cas nods, guilt in his scent. “There have been deaths. I needed to know.” 

“And?” Dean asks, keeping the defensive growl out of his voice best as he can.

“I think your father has a lot of regrets,” Cas answers diplomatically.

“Yeah, well.” That’s a non-starter. No one becomes lone wolf without regrets. “Anything more specific than that?”

“I think your father learned to have an iron-clad grip on himself. I do not think an Omega in heat would prompt a rut in him. With which I want to say that I believe that all violence that he will resort to these days is reasonably well-calculated.”

Dean raises an eyebrow because he’s not extremely sure Cain took the time to  _ calculate _ _ reasonably well  _ before attacking Ezekiel. But then of course that was when Cain still operated under the impression that he was fighting alone. Dean kind of hopes that that’s not the case anymore. “So, are you saying, his evolved brain is pretty decent but violence is what drives his Alpha?” he asks. 

Cas answers with a grimace, which is answer enough. 

“You’re dead wrong,” Dean shakes his head.

“He’s become violent before,” Cas reminds him.

And yeah, Dean’s not forgotten. “Cause he kicked Zeke’s ass? You think an urge for  _ violence  _ was the driving force there?” 

“Of course not,” Cas scoffs. “It was an urge to protect. But it was violent nonetheless.”

“Yes, that one time. Before he trusted us to help. You know how often he does that these days? Protect us, I mean? How often he takes Mary’s hand and gently leads her away from a hive that’s in uproar? How often he catches Ben when he’s a bit too ambitious in his attempts to push himself to standing on every unstable piece of furniture that’s in reach? And just last week, Cain was the only one to notice that Rob managed to dig up a fucking poisonous root and was gonna put it right into his mouth. He protects us every fucking day.” And he does it with gentle hands and soft eyes. 

“He loves you and the pups.”

“Yes,” Dean agrees. “And you better believe that his Alpha is involved in that. This shit is hard for him. If anything, his Alpha should be protecting him from letting us in, as often as he’s had his love blow up in his face. But he’s still kind and gentle.”

Cas smiles. “But you sound like you want to kick some ass on his behalf.”

“Damn right,” Dean growls. Then he sighs. “Not yours, though.” He lets himself fall back on his pillow. The only reason they’re even having this conversation is because Cas allowed Cain to be a part of their lives, after all. “You’re one of the good ones and I’m keeping you.”

“Glad to hear it,” Cas snickers. 

“Yeah, well, I give credit where credit is due.”

They both chuckle before falling into silence.

“No, but really, Cas. I think you might be surprised if you talked to him about this. He might have some wisdom to share.”

Cas sighs and takes Dean’s hand, playing with his fingers. “I’m not reluctant because it’s him. Or at least, not only because of that. It’s hard. Talking to another Alpha about things that are perceived as weaknesses. I’ve never really managed.”

“Not even like, in college? With your rebel friends?” 

Cas rolls his eyes at the comment but he replies earnestly. “No. I mean, I was in the room when the others discussed. And there were some voices dissenting from the norm, especially with the ‘rebels’. But I never…” He peters off. 

“Cause you didn’t want your opinions to find their way back to Michael?” 

Cas shrugs, and yeah, that is probably self-evident. “Also, because I don’t really  _ like _ talking to other Alphas.” 

“Yeah, okay, point,” Dean says. It’s not like he generally likes talking to Alphas all that much. “I’d say if you don’t want it to be in person, check some internet forums, but…” He makes a face. “Hey, want me to check out the scientific literature instead? I’m pretty sure the psych community has done some more research since you went to college. Even a few years make a difference with the current social liberation -” He stops when he notices how excited he’s gotten. He can feel heat flood his face, and for once today it’s not  _ heat _ , it’s embarrassment. 

“I would like that very much. Thank you, Dean,” Cas smiles. 

It sounds completely honest, too, not a smidge of irony in it. So of course, Dean can do nothing else but turn to Cas and ravish him again. 

They get around to eating the rest of their sandwiches only when night has already fallen truly and deeply. Not that it takes all that long, seeing how they’re in the middle of winter. Daylight is never enough these days and Dean can’t wait for spring to arrive. Especially since this winter has been too warm so far, snow exchanged for rain and mud, that Mary gets excited about because she loves stomping around in every puddle, but that makes everyone else not want to leave the house. 

Which, Gabe and his cookies seem to have averted any ideas of going outside, Mary might have harbored. Or at least that’s what it sounds like from Cas’ side of the phone call that’s currently happening.

“Those are great cookies, sweetheart, yes. - No, Dada and I don’t want a cookie tonight, but maybe you can keep some for us? - Oh, I know, sunshine. But you’re having a sleepover! That’s fun! -,” Cas puts his hand over the phone and whispers at Dean, “She’s telling me in great detail why sleepovers with Jack are stupid.”

Dean’s stomach takes a tumble for a moment, guilt spreading through it. Then he whispers back, “Tell her to ask Gabe to read them the Brambly Hedge series. They both like it and it usually calms Mary down. I know Gabe and Bal own a copy. It might help.”

Cas nods and after listening to Mary some more gently brings up the books. It takes him two tries, but the tone of the phone call changes, and Dean assumes success. 

Then, abruptly, Cas looks at his phone in consternation. “The phone fell and then the line went dead. She hung up on me!”

Dean snorts. “Yep, sounds like our daughter, alright.”

“She hung up on me!” Cas complains flabbergasted. 

“Take it as a win. It’s much better than if she had started crying,” Dean points out.

"But I wanted to ask Gabriel about the twins," Cas pouts.

"I'm sure he's gonna text once everyone is down for the night. He knows that we worry."

Cas answers that with a little hmpf. 

“Or is it  _ weakness _ now to worry?” Dean asks with raised eyebrows, voice teasing but question real.

Cas sits down on the bed with another hmpf. Dean expects him to go for the sandwiches, but instead he puts a hand on Dean’s knee and holds on, face unexpectedly grave. “I’ve learned to live with that particular fear. Everyone knows that my family is everything to me.”

And yeah, Dean remembers Michael trying to get to Cas by trying to take their daughter vividly. Still. He takes Cas' hand and squeezes it. “Not gonna start complaining about that one. Seeing how you’re our everything as well.”

It’s a sappy thing to say and it softens Cas’ scent and expression like it is supposed to do. Though really, if you think about it, it isn’t even over the top. Dean’s got no idea where he’d be right now if he hadn’t met Cas but he’s pretty damn sure it wouldn’t be anywhere near as good. 

“Love you,” he says and leans in for a kiss. 

Cas brings his hand up to Dean’s neck, holding him close while they kiss. It’s languid, tasting a little like the sandwich Dean ate, but mostly just like them. The fact that it is so very familiar, that every inch of skin and lips and tongue has already been mapped out a thousand times before, does not diminish it. That’s another thing that Dean had never expected. That you could know someone this well, but still never tire of their company. 

Cas’ sandwich gets forgotten in favor of deepening the kiss and moving closer and wrapping limbs around each other. It’s slow and soft, their love wrapping around them like a cocoon, their adoration expressed in every look, in every reverent touch. There is want there, of course there is, but it’s the deep want of knowing that you want this person in your life, that you want to share everything with them, your mind, your body, your heart. It’s a different kind of passion than young love, one that is much more secure, the kinks already worked out a long time before. 

And maybe that should make it less somehow, the excitement of the unknown gone. But Dean’s never been a big fan of the unknown, life having hit him over the head once too often when he wasn’t careful. Having built something lasting like they have, something deep, with roots that carry, deep in his heart, that’s what he’s always wanted, whether he admitted it to himself or not. 

The second day, Dean wakes himself up with a whimper. His skin has shrunk even more overnight, possibly because of all the sweat that it’s drenched in, and his brain is fuzzy. He tries to calculate how much sleep he’s actually gotten, but his brain refuses to cooperate. All it screams at him is that there are no limbs wrapped around him. Fortunately, though, even though the rest of the room is grey and blurry, of no interest at all, there is a breathing mount tangled in blankets whose scent bathes him in neon colors. 

Dean reaches out a hand, shaking the mount. “Cas?” 

His voice sounds scratchy, throat too dry. Water. He should probably find water. But that would mean turning away from his mate and that’s not an option. 

“Cas!” 

This time, the mount jerks and a moment later blue eyes blink at him. 

“Need. Now.” 

It’s all the words he can string together, but mate good. Mate knows him well. Mate frees himself from blankets and is on him in a heartbeat. 

Dean sighs with relief at the first touch, arching into it to maximise the contact. His overheated skin craves his mate’s hands, and where everything else seems scratchy, Dean wouldn’t mind the hands holding him firmer. Being faster. A little rougher. Anything to draw the heat out from inside of him. 

He struggles then, not to get away, but to turn. To get on his knees and get his ass up in the air while pressing his face into the pillows. That should do the trick. 

“Need,” he presses out again, and this time he gets a low growl in response to his efforts. 

There’s one hand at his hip then and another at his shoulder, Cas aligning them deftly. Dean whines, makes himself pliant to allow the manhandling, to spur Cas on. 

And Cas, lovely, lovely Cas, doesn’t dawdle but pushes in in one long steady motion, making both of them groan on a long exhale. 

It’s impossible to concentrate on anything else, the sensation of Cas inside him and of his hands holding Dean steady, grounding him, is all there is in the world. Well, that and the grunts and the slap of skin on skin that fills the air. 

Dean feels himself melt, muscles dissolving where they were pliant before and it’s all he can do to hold himself upright for the time that it takes until his vision whites out. 

When he comes to, he’s still buried under a heavy weight, Cas panting above him. Cas’ weight flattens him into the mattress, Dean’s own breathing shallow and still fast in the aftermath of the orgasm, but his brain feeling a little clearer than it had been. Enough to notice that the room is not grey, anyway, even though there doesn’t seem to be much sun today, so everything is muted. But it’s definitely not early in the morning anymore. They’ve slept longer than Dean had estimated or thought possible during heat. 

Finally, Cas seems to find the strength or willpower to move, getting an arm around Dean’s middle to turn them. It makes breathing easier, but Dean instantly misses the weight on top of him. 

“Hold me tight?” he asks. 

Cas complies without hesitation, tightening his arms and legs around Dean to a degree where on any other day it would be uncomfortable. Today, it makes Dean sigh in relief and relax into the hold, the knowledge that his mate is taking care of him literally pressed into his skin.

He turns his head enough that his mating bite ends up right in front of Cas’ nose. There’s a half second of hesitation but then Cas bites down. It isn’t as hard as it could be, Cas is not breaking skin. But if Dean thought his muscles were pliant before, now his body shows him what going lax really means. It makes a noise come out of him that he doesn’t even know how to classify. Somewhere between a whimper and a purr. Definitely a completely undignified noise. Not that he manages to give enough fucks to mind. 

The way Cas rumbles a satisfied little growl into his back, Cas doesn’t exactly mind, either. 

Sometime during the night Dean’s gotten used to the supercharged honey, too. Or at least, it’s not tickling in his nose anymore, it’s become a feature of his mate like the honey itself is, too. There are no muddy waters or any other uneasy smell of anxiety right now, either. 

So Dean lies still, breathing against the pressure of Cas’ arms and following the lazy beat of his blood from the pulsing sting of pain over his mating bite to the sated stretch of Cas’ knot holding him in place. It feels about as perfect as life can get. 

It’s the tiniest bit marvelous how that works. How the pressure and pain of Dean’s skin being too small lets go thanks to the pressure of his mate’s limbs. How the heat of his mate’s body calms and soothes, when every scrap of fabric covering his body would be most unwelcome. 

“Mmmh, mate,” Cas grumbles and licks a few times over Dean’s neck, his penchant for nibbling and licking and sucking small bruises into Dean’s skin buried in the hectic of daily life, but coming back up to the surface whenever they have the leisure. 

Speaking of which, “Mark me?” 

“Mate. Mine,” Cas mutters happily and immediately goes to work. 

Dean would answer him, too, that yes, of course he is, only he gasps when Cas instead of just sucking a bruise uses teeth again. The sting is exquisite, and the fact that Cas’ hands hold him tightly, not letting him buck away, somehow makes it all the better. 

And okay, maybe heat-addled brain is a little kinkier than everyday brain cause while he’s never scared of Cas, sparks in his groin area and an internal chant of  _ more more more _ are not quite his usual reaction to being held down. 

As it is, he grinds down on Cas, using the limited range of motion that he has to make Cas moan and prompt him to repeat what he just did. Cas answers with a little growl to stay still that Dean wholeheartedly ignores, and then, when Dean grinds down again, with a bite to Dean’s shoulder that has him whine and try to twist to give Cas even better access to his skin, which in return makes Cas chuckle. 

It doesn’t make him ramp up the game, though, instead Cas alternates between bites and nibbles that sting, and soft licks and kisses that soothe the same areas. Dean gives up trying to anticipate what’s next and instead lets his brain melt into butter the same way his body already is. 

He feels the sensation when Cas finally slips out, whining at the loss, but lets Cas comfort him by turning him on his back so that he can lavish attention on Dean’s chest, worshipping the skin he hadn’t had access to in their position before. 

And it is that, Dean has no doubt. There is no punishment in the sting of the marks, no reprimand or anger. Just adoration and connection and zings and sparks that make Dean forget that they’ve only stopped being locked together what feels like a minute ago. 

“Cas.” 

It doesn’t take more than the one word and Cas looks up from where he was currently very busy sucking a string of hickies into Dean’s hip bone. 

“Gotta… If you keep this up, you gotta…” And since when have words become so difficult?

Cas licks a long line over the art he’s just finished and then crawls up Dean’s body again until they’re face to face. His pupils are blown, eyes huge. Dean brings a hand up to cup Cas’ face, prompting Cas to push closer, though it’s Dean who bridges the final inches until they’re kissing. 

It’s wet and sloppy, Dean biting down on Cas’ lower lip just because he can. It elicits a tiny growl that doesn’t seem like offense at all. In the opposite, Cas turns them so that Dean is on top and looks at him expectantly. 

“You want me…?” Dean asks.

Cas nods. 

And as much as Dean had enjoyed it to be on the receiving end of Cas’ attention, he’s onboard with this as well. 

So he straddles Cas, positioning his hips for maximum impact, and returns the favor, starting at Cas’ neck and biting and sucking his way down Cas’ chest. 

By the time he’d have to bend at the waist so much that he’d have to move, he can feel the insistent press of Cas’ erection, so instead of continuing his ministrations, he lifts himself up enough that he can grab Cas’ dick and seat himself properly. 

It punches the breath out of both of them, oversensitivity at this point becoming an issue. 

“Gotta slow down,” Dean murmurs and then belies his own words by holding on to Cas’ shoulders and immediately setting a hard and fast pace because it’s the first time he’s gotten to set the rhythm in this, and he wants to make it good. 

Cas groans and bucks his hips and arches his back, but he doesn’t turn the tables, let’s Dean ride him and enjoys it enough apparently, that even with Dean’s heat Cas is the first to tumble over the edge. Dean would be smug about it, but Cas grinds his hips, twisting his knot inside Dean, and that’s enough to have Dean tumble over as well. 

This time, when their breathing calms down, Cas put an arm around Dean, holding him close in an embrace that is much more snuggly than their morning activities. 

Dean puts his head in the crook of Cas’ neck, cuddling close but without holding on too tight. It seems that his needs in that regard have been satisfied for the moment. He lightly runs a finger over Cas’ chest, where colors are already blooming in mouth-shaped marks. 

Cas follows his progress without commenting. He brings his own hand up, though, letting it softly glide over Dean’s chest. He looks up at Dean then, asking a silent question. 

Dean shakes his head. “No need. Wanted it,” he says. “Needed it.” He takes Cas’ hand and squeezes it in reassurance. “You?”

Cas nods. “Mate. Mine.” He puts both of their hands over his heart. “Yours.” 

His chest swells with pride as he says it, and maybe, just maybe, Dean gets a tiny bit choked up. Frikking heat hormones. “Love you, little Alpha,” he mutters. 

It makes Cas purr with happiness, and yeah, Dean likes the sound of that. 

They drowse away for a while, bodies needing rest even if their hormones try to complain. They never roll out of touch, though, an arm or a leg or both always thrown over each other.

There's a knock at the door at some point, disturbing their lazy cuddling. They both freeze but the knock doesn't get repeated. When Cas goes to carefully open the door, there's a new supply of water and juice, and a variety of hearty breakfast foods on a tray in front of their room. Cas sniffs the air before shrugging. One of the betas then, their scent easily dismissed. 

"'M not sure it's still breakfast time." Dean wrinkles his nose at the strong smell of the bacon.

Cas shrugs. "It's always pancake time."

"Your daughter would agree."

They peacefully share the pancakes and nibble at the scrambled eggs, though the bacon gets put on the far side of the tray and stays there, neither of them fond of anything that would overlay their own scents too much. 

"You're like, not even touching me," Dean observes. 

"Oh." Cas rectifies the issue by moving closer until their knees knock. 

Dean sniffs the air not too subtly. The electricity has given way to warm earth, even though there are remnants lingering. 

"Oh." Cas says again, understanding Dean's meaning. He sniffs the air, too. "You still smell like everything that's good in the world."

Dean wants to answer something witty to the sappiness, but he doesn't have it in him. So instead he shifts until instead of just their knees, their whole sides are aligned and touching. "Kinda hoping it's not only the heat that makes me smell like something good in the world."

"You're always someone  _ very _ good in my world, Dean."

"I'm glad."

They finish their food and afterwards Dean goes to the bathroom, all by himself. Because he actually has to pee. Which means that for the first time in two days he's not just sweating everything he drinks back out immediately. It fits with the itch under his skin lessening. He still doesn't think he'd be able to stand clothes yet, but he looks in the mirror and shakes his head at himself. 

"You good?" Cas asks from the doorway. His forehead is drawn into a frown. 

"Yeah," Dean assures him. "But I think we're gonna remember last night for a week or two."

"I plan to remember it much longer."

"Well," Dean says. "When you say it like that…" He grins at Cas. "Wanna make more memories?"

It's not an offer that Cas can resist, but the quality of their lovemaking is markedly changed. Oh, it's not that the things they did during the height of the heat were not pure love. But there was an urge and a single-mindedness driving them forward that was almost automatic, their instincts driving the show even if the finishing touches were still their own. 

Now, they come together in the luxury of doing this at a comfortable pace, no one to hurry them, not even instinct, and with a mate who will do everything in their power to make this good and who has the practice and experience to back up their intentions. 

It's quieter than young love, gentler than full heat, but maybe more intimate than either of those. Because it takes years and a strong bond to ever get here. To get to be so fully connected without even having to work for it. 

It makes Dean's heart overflow with love. 

They wake up tangled again on the third morning. It's Cas who stirs first, mumbling apologies and tapping to the bathroom. 

Dean tries to judge by the dim light coming in from the window how late it is. He'd say around 7:30 am. He grabs his phone next, grunting with the movement as his muscles protest. 

Just then, Cas comes back in. 

"Think we got in a bit of a workout. I'm sore," Dean grumbles and lights up his phone. 7:23. Heh. 

Cas turns back to the bathroom for a moment, but is back a minute later. He drops an Advil into Dean's hand before climbing into bed. 

Dean finds his water bottle on the floor and swallows the drug gratefully. "Thanks."

"I took one, too," Cas admits. "I think I'm getting old."

"Awww," Dean teases. "Poor little Alpha."

Cas grumbles under his breath, but all he does in retaliation is to gather Dean up in his arms. "Mouthy omega," he whispers into Dean's ear. 

It makes a shiver run down Dean's spine. 

"Yeah?" He asks. "Whatcha gonna do about it?"

Cas tilts his head at him as if he’s actually thinking about it, before he cracks, and leans close to kiss Dean with a smile. 

When they break apart, Dean grins, too, “Best way to stop someone from talking, I tell you.”

“Well, as long as the someone is me,” Cas answers.

“Well, duh,” Dean replies. “Who else should I be kissing, doofus?”

“No one. That was the point,” Cas grumbles not very seriously.

“I see.” Dean tries to keep a straight face, but he doesn’t quite manage. “I mean, you could drive the point home one more time just to make sure that it took?”

There is a challenge in Cas’ raised eyebrow, but it doesn’t translate into either his kiss or the subsequent love-making. Yeah, Dean decides, they have actually managed to exhaust themselves. He didn’t think it was possible. 

Still, when he cuddles close to Cas after, he observes, “Hmm, still cooling me down to touch you.” He traces idle patterns into Cas’ skin. “Guess we’re not quite out of the woods yet.” Though the electrical part of Cas’ scent is truly and utterly gone, the rut passed faster than the heat. 

“Are you in a hurry to get back to the world?” Cas asks. 

“No,” Dean shakes his head. “It’s more of a matter of the mind is willing, but the body hurts.”

“Because…,” Cas puts a hand over one of the marks he’s left, an echo of the earlier anxiety over his rut shining through. 

“Nah, that doesn’t even sting anymore. Just, bone-deep exhaustion, y’know? Guess we’re both getting old.”

“If you’re getting old, then all it does is make you more beautiful,” Cas says earnestly.

“Stop it,” Dean grumbles and half-heartedly shoves at Cas before putting an arm over his face to hide his blush. Not that it’ll do much. His blushes tend to spread all the way down his chest. 

“You’re more secure in yourself and your life. You carry yourself differently than when we met. You know that you have to offer a lot to the world, and you are unafraid to show it. There is a deep, kind warmth that has always resided in you and that’s just gotten more noticeable over the years. It makes your eyes shine with a bright light…”

“Caaaas!” Dean groans.

“It makes everyone in your surroundings drawn to you. Of course, I also appreciate your physical beauty and the way your freckles stand out, both in winter against your pale skin, and in summer, when they multiply, and I…”

“Cas!” 

“... love every part of you, because I love you with my whole heart. And I guess what I want to say is that I will gladly grow old with you, Dean Novak.”

“You’re such a sap.” But Dean still cuddles closer, hugging his mate tight. “I love you, too, and since we’re on the topic of aging together, I’ll totally make that appointment for you to get reading glasses next week.”

Cas snorts, used to Dean’s aversion to praise, and not stopping the deflection, seeing how he’s already gotten to say what he wanted to say. Not that Dean really minds. Not deep down. It makes him feel embarrassed every time, but it’s also good to hear it out loud. That Cas thinks the same thing about the first signs of age that are cropping up that Dean thinks: That they’re an enhancement more than a detraction. 

“They show a life lived together,” Dean picks his train of thought up aloud. “The wrinkles and the first grey hairs and even the scars.” He puts a hand over his belly, where the scars from Mary’s birth are now a silky smooth reminder of something years in the past. “They’re welcome. All of them.”

Cas puts his hand over Dean’s. “I’m very glad that you chose me to be your mate. I cannot imagine a life without you.”

“Same,” Dean smiles. 

And then they’re kissing again and cuddling some more, and life is good. 

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not paying any dentists’ bills if all this sweetness gave you cavities. :D Let me know whether you enjoyed!


End file.
